Random Rambling: A little longer, a little different.

A little more M-rated for a shortshortshor sex-scene void of love.

Part 4

~xXx~

Are you where you thought you'd be
So beautiful and only twenty-three
Opposition rests in the hearts
With no, with no, with no opportunity
It's not that we don't talk
It's just no one really listens and honesty fades
Like a politician lost in the course
All smiles and no one remembers our names

~xXx~

“I see no peaceful end to this conflict if Iwagakure is not willing to negotiate with us, as the Tsuchikage has proven is the case, and as such I will declare war on them as of today – As Otogakure are supporting them, I also declare war on them. I can only speak on behalf of Konoha, but I would like to hear who our allies are in this battle.” The scarred, blonde man sits down, awaiting the replies of his fellow kages.

“Sunagakure are your allies in this war, Konoha can count on our support,” the Kazekage says. The person who originally held the position, the former jinchuuriki Gaara, was assassinated by a shinobi from the village hidden in the rocks, his sister chosen to be his replacement, and so it comes as no surprise to the Hokage that they will join forces with Konoha.

“Thank you,” he says, “You support is much appreciated.”

“We, Kirigakure, will also declare war on the sound and rock villages. Konoha and their shinobi have proven themselves trustworthy and as good allies to us in the past, and so we are your allies in this war.” The large man that is the current Mizukage nods politely at the Hokage.

“That is sorted then, we are allies in this war. I will call another meeting shortly, but for the time being I will have to sort out Konoha’s ranks and prepare them for war. You can expect word from Konoha by the end of the month.” The two other Kages nod in understanding, and the blonde male rises to his feet, turning his back on them to leave.

“Naruto,” The Kazekage, Temari, says. “Let’s win this war. For Gaara, and for all the others who have died so far at the hands of both Sound and Rock shinobi, let us win this war.”

Naruto nods at her, smiling in feigned resolution rather than true optimism. He knows that the war ahead of them will be long and hard as opposed to the simple, quick one they all first expected, and he is also aware that the number or casualties is likely to be very high as their competition is strong, but it is a war that needs to be fought.

“For Gaara.” He tells her, then walks away.

He goes where he always goes to think, the graveyard. He has become much like a man he never thought he’d be like now that he is older and has seen what the world can do to good men. He has become much like his former teacher, Hatake Kakashi. He once swore to himself he never would.

Standing by the memorial he traces calloused fingers over the names of departed acquaintances and the occasional person that actually mattered. His free hand automatically goes to the scar the now runs across his right cheek when his fingers run over the letters spelling out Umino Iruka – the white line on his face a permanent reminder of the mission during which the man died. He remembers the bloody mess on the ground after the fight, the feeling of blood running down his face and throat. He remembers holding a dying Iruka close to him and chanting ‘I love you, I’m sorry’ into infinity and deaf ears.

He has many other scars, too – one of which is a long cut across his throat, acquired during an infiltration mission gone wrong. He almost died then – he was so near getting free of life, but of course that couldn’t happen. The famous hunter known to most as Hatake Kakashi had to save him from freedom.

A silent tear traces his skin upon reading the two names Jiraiya and Tsunade next to one another. Those are the two people he misses the most. Thos two are the ones he needs to tell him that he can do it, and that he is strong enough.

“Am I doing the right thing?” he whispers into the cold winter air. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

It really isn’t. He never wanted war. When Tsunade appointed him Hokage only weeks before she died for reasons he still does not know he hoped that he could make a difference. He hoped that he could change things for the better, and that maybe, just maybe peace could become a reality and wars could be ended. He still held the same spark and resolution within his heart that had always shone so brightly in his eyes when he was younger then, but with time, that, like all other things, had begun to fade. Now all that was left was the hope of not-so-many casualties and the wish for the war to end sooner rather than later.

As usual the wind offers no answers to his questions, and he shakes his head at the fact that he even bothered trying. Why ask the dead when you know that they won’t answer, he thinks.

“Naruto,” he hears a soft voice call. “I thought I’d find you here.”

“Oh. Hey.” He replies nonchalantly as a pink-haired girl approaches him.

“How are you?” She asks, and he wants to slap her. He wants her to realize by herself what a mess they are truly in, and he wants that just one person could see how he felt without his having to say so out loud. That won’t happen, however – he knows that for a fact.

“We’re at war.” He says quietly. “Suna and Kirigakure are our allies, Iwa- and Otogakure our enemies.” He sees the fear in her eyes, nodding apologetically.

She loves a man who is now residing in sound, one of their most infamous shinobi. She loved a man that was the closest he ever got to a best friend. Sasuke was always more like an enemy.

“Come with me?” she asks. Her voice is hesitant, but she confidently turns away and starts walking. She knows that he will follow her, he always does.

When they get to her apartment he silently follows her inside, letting himself get led by soft hands into her bedroom. He watches her undress without further interest, then takes off his own clothes.

As opposed to the gentle nature that is what everyone knows him for, in the bedroom he is harsh. She knows this from experience, and she cannot say that she is looking forwards to it, but she does it out of love. He needs her, and he needs this. He needs an outlet, and she has become that outlet. He is the hokage and her only remaining memory of the happier times of her life, and she will not let go at any cost, so if this is the only way to keep him close, then this is the way it will be.

He is pounding into her lithe frame, and she bites her lip and tips her head back not to let the tears that are forming in her eyes fall. This is his time to feel, not hers. This is his time to let out all the pain he feels inside, she can cry later.

Tears are streaking his cheeks, a look of desperation on his face that turns to something so indescribably beautiful when he climaxes, and she is glad it is over.

They both get dressed quickly, there are no emotions involved in their relationship, only platonic love and the touches of memories past, and he mutters a “Thank you” before he leaves her there to wish upon her shining stars that maybe things can change.

He fucks her a couple of times every week. If she knows he’s going through rough times she will be there for him and she has granted him full permission to do as he will with her body. He is sickened by what they have, but at the same time thankful. Mostly sickened, for it is not her that he loves. It is not her that he loves, it is a man that he can never confess to, and much less that can ever be his. Sometimes he wonders if what he feels is just lust, and if he is even really capable of love.

He wishes he were, but in a world of war and hate and death, in a world were all of those that he once loved is dead to the world or just to him, he does not think he is.

“Where did all my dreams and hopes go”, he asks himself. “Where did my life go?”

Random Rambling: What did you think?
Only one part left now.